


graffiti in the bathroom stall (like the holy scriptures of a shopping mall)

by crying_at_ikea



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, bc i LOVE HER OKAY???, no beta we die like the winchesters, umm there's probably more but i'm lazy uwu
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29525034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crying_at_ikea/pseuds/crying_at_ikea
Summary: "this was supposed to be an easy case." this is what both the winchesters and the team at the behavioral analysis unit must be thinking, because what else would they be thinking?
Relationships: The BAU Team & The Winchesters
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14





	graffiti in the bathroom stall (like the holy scriptures of a shopping mall)

Honestly, Lior had no goddamn idea what happened. She was just making her bed, throwing pillows across the room at Claire, and listening to _Jesus of Suburbia_ by Green Day when the FBI agents kicked her door in and made her drop to her knees, hands locked behind her head. She and Claire are put in the same interrogation room, fluorescent lights burning into her retinas.

“Are you okay?” she asks Claire in French, tilting her head.

“Yes,” Claire replies, voice shaky, “are you?”

“Yeah,” she says simply, shutting her mouth as soon as the door opens.

“You must be Lior and Claire,” the older, tanned man says, sitting at the table. “I’m Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi, and this is Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan.”

“Okay,” Claire says, glaring when Lior kicks her in the shin. “And yeah, we are.”

“Does Lior speak English?” Rossi asks the blonde, staring at her with dark eyes.

“She does,” Lior says dryly leaning as far back in her chair as she can. “Why do you ask?”

“You were speaking French before,” Morgan explains. “We wanted to make sure you could understand us.”

“So why didn’t you ask her directly?” Claire says, brows furrowed. “Doesn’t that make more sense than asking me?” Rossi and Morgan glance at each other.

“Look, they can’t hurt you anymore—you don’t have to protect them. Are you two okay? Really, truly okay?” Rossi presses, faking concern exceptionally well. Lior slips into Mandarin, hoping against hope that no one in the room or behind the one-way glass understood it.

“Isn’t that—that’s what the cops said when they picked me up from my mom’s,” Lior says, staring directly into the glass.

“That’s what they said after the Miller fiasco, too,” Claire responds. “That’s some messed up shit.”

“Dude,” Lior says, back in English. “You’re really giving us the abusive relationship spiel? Try again, Agent Rossi.” Claire smirks. “I mean, it’s touching you care enough to pretend to worry about us but that—that’s like, man, I don’t even know—that’s like—”

“Like when you see someone eating chocolate and ask if they’re lactose intolerant,” Claire says wisely. “So, basically, stupid.” She flashes the agents a grin, blue eyes sparkling in the bad lighting.

“We aren’t pretending to care,” Morgan says, trying to soothe the two young women. “We really are worried about your wellbeing.”

“Riiiight,” Claire says, dragging the word out. “Because we are _so special_ , right, Lior?”

“Oh, extraordinarily,” Lior says sarcastically. “This makes so much sense.”

“Okay, but when you _think_ about it—it kinda does, right?” Morgan says. “They leave for long periods of time, they might come back a little hurt, maybe bruised or bloody?”

“You are talking about Sam, Dean, and Cas, right? ’Cause Sam, like, yeah, sometimes, but that’s just what Dean and Cas wake up like,” Lior says, snickering when Claire pulls a face and mumbles, “That’s gross.”

“How do you mean?” Rossi asks. Claire and Lior exchange a glance.

“Do you think they’re homophobic,” Lior says flatly, not even bothering to change languages. Claire bursts out laughing when she catches the look on Rossi and Morgan’s faces, doubling over. “Honest question, babe, do you?”

“May—maybe a little b-bit,” Claire says, gasping for breath. “Did you—their faces—oh, man, this is going in the “Good Days” folder in my brain.”

“We were arrested???” Lior says, sounding confused. “In what way is this a good day?” She looks vaguely distressed as she grabs Claire’s arm and shakes it. “Claire-Bear, why is this a good day?”

“You two weren’t arrested,” Rossi says. “The Winchesters were.” The girls stare at him like he said something stupid (again). Then the door opens again and Aaron Hotchner stands there, looking at Lior in ~~love~~ ~~anger~~ confusion. Lior’s eyes go wide and Claire’s mouth drops open.

“Oh, my God,” she whispers. “This is so embarrassing for you.” Lior ignores her.

“ _Dad_?!” Lior yells. “What the fuck?”

“You—I _buried_ you,” Hotch says, and Morgan and Rossi both turn to look at him in shock.

“Yeeeeahhhhh, about that…” Lior trails off. “I mean, you did. I was in there—um, for a year? A little bit under a year.”

“And then?” Hotch snaps.

“I, um, woke up?” Lior's voice climbs in pitch at the end of the sentence, her voice breaking a little. “I don’t really know what happened. I _do_ know that my biological dad’s ‘lessons’”—here she makes air quotes with her fingers—“in how to escape being buried alive paid off. Eventually.” She smiles awkwardly. “Hi?”

“That’s definitely not what you’re supposed to say.” Despite the sarcastic words, Claire tangles her fingers in Lior’s.

“Claire, I’m going to kill you.”

“And, who, exactly, is your biological father?” Lior bites her lip at the question.

“John. John Winchester.”

“Which makes…”

“Yeah. Sam and Dean are my older brothers. Who you just arrested. For a reason which I am still unaware because as far as I knew, they’ve been dead since like 2006,” Lior rambles, long nails clicking against the metal tabletop. “Although, I have also been technically dead for eleven years.”

“You were eight,” Hotch says.

“I _know that_ ,” Lior says despairingly. “I was—Dad, I was there. Part of me did die there, in that house with Mom. You saw me, and that _was_ me. But I’m here now, and you just arrested my only biological family. Am I not allowed to be a little angry at you about that?” They stare each other down until Hotch sighs and turns away.

“I can’t be sorry about this,” he says, voice heavy with everything he wants to say to her. She says nothing, letting him leave before she says something she’ll regret. Claire’s hand in hers is warm and callused, grounding her.

“Well,” she says to the other two agents in the room. “Where were we?”


End file.
